When Love Sparks
by Brooklynnx
Summary: When Victoria, a young girl from France, comes to New York City to try and join the Avengers, she has it all planned out. But she can't plan who she will bump into, and that can change everything.--discontiuned until further notice.
1. The First Stop

_**Disclaimer: **I do not own any of the featured Marvel characters. But I do own Victoria/Stupéfier__. So there! _

It smelled different.

That was the first thing Victoria noticed. The air smelled different. It was thicker and harder to breathe. She couldn't describe it, but it was much different. It was American air. Free air. She had finally made it. Now France seemed so far away. But that was okay. Everything suddenly became okay as soon as she saw the Statue of Liberty waiting for her.

As Victoria found her motel without a problem, which, in a city that big, could have been a problem, and unpacked her few suitcases. Her motel was a few blocks before the Brooklyn Bridge, closer to Soho than anything else. And, even though she wanted to see all they city's landmarks, she knew that it was not the time. First she had to do what she had come to this country--this city--to do. And that was to join the Avengers.

She threw on her costume; a long, silk dress with the end ripped. It was purely black, which matched her football-shaped mask. She wore long, black ballroom gloves and shoes she had designed herself to help with her coordination, balance, and leaps. Back home she had named herself Stupéfier. It meant "Amazing" in French, and she decided to let the name stick.

Her powers were not necessarily original: she had super-strength, super-speed, and the ability to leap_ great_ distances. And as he jumped out of her motel room window and landed two blocks away on top of a roof, she decided that her powers would come in handy here.

Out of her shoe she pulled a list. A to-do list. She had researched how superheroes work in New York, and she wanted to become familiar with their ways. The _Daily Bugle_ was apparently big on superheroes. She made that her first stop.

She leaped three to five blocks at a time, meaning she was at the building within minutes. It was very near Soho, which helped her out greatly. She wanted to meet Mr. Jameson, the famous leader of the newspaper. She knew his office was on the top floor, but how to meet him? Just walk in? Stupéfier decided that, if she were to introduce herself, she should do it professionally. So, with her dignity, she entered the building from the ground floor, took the elevator, and spoke to the secretary. She was young with a dark bob haircut. Her nameplate read "Betty Brant".

"'Ello, Miss Brant. May I meet Mr. Jameson?" she said with a thick English accent.

Betty looked up from her papers, startled at the guest's appearance, and didn't say anything as Stupéfier allowed herself in. Mr. Jameson was on the phone. But when he saw that his visitor was wearing a mask he hung up instantly.

"Who the hell are you?"

Confused by his rudeness, she said, "I am Stupéfier. I am new here, and I have heard that you are...eh...a big influence in the superhero business, no?"

The man put out his cigar. His face was square, his face flushed and his mustache very funny looking, by her standards. "Where are you from? England?"

"France, but close enough, eh?" She stuck out her gloved hand to shake. Jameson eyed it, then shook it very awkwardly.

Then a young boy--well, he wasn't that young--rushed in with his camera. He was gasping and he started snapping photos, as he had seen the mysterious visitor through the window. He seemed to be a guy who took care of himself. His hair was pushed back, and his glasses were smudge-free.

"Who is that?" Stupéfier asked.

"That would be Peter Parker. My photographer. Right on time, there, kiddo! And if you charge me extra, I swear I will--"

"What's your name?" Peter asked as he stopped clicking the buttons on him cameras.

"Stupéfier."

"You from France?"

She nodded, happy that someone got it right.

"What's your deal? Your powers, I mean?" He seemed very curious.

"Oh. I, eh, am strong, fast, and I can leap very far. It is how I got here, at the newspaper. I researched and found this place to be very big in superheroes. I--" and she pulled out her list "--also want to see the Brooklyn Bridge in greater detail, and the Stark Tower, and Times Square, and Central Park, and the Museum of Natural History and--"

"Wow. You pretty much got it covered, huh? Have you met any other superheroes?" Peter asked her.

She shook her head. "No, Mr. Parker. But I want to meet the Avengers...I want to join them."

_"Join them?!"_ Both men asked.

She nodded and smiled like a little girl. "It is my dream. It is why I came here."

"Wow. Uh, it's not really like you just go on a job interview, y'know?" Peter said, unsure of how to explain the concept to her. He, of course, knew all about the Avengers, as he was secretly Spider-Man. He could tell that Stupéfier wasn't from around here...who introduces themselves willingly to Jameson?

She nodded. "I know. But I will try really hard. I will go now, as I have much to do. Nice meeting you." And she opened a window and leaped. Both men stood, mouths open and speechless. _Wow,_ Peter thought. _She can jump three times higher than I can!_ "Was it me, or was she out-there?" Peter asked his boss.

"She was out there, all right. _Way _out there. Now what are you doing standing around?!_ Get me more photos of her!"_

Peter rushed out of the office, hoping that girl didn't leap too far ahead for him to catch up.


	2. A Rare Breed

Stupéfier still couldn't believe that she was standing on a rooftop in New York City. Months ago--no, still weeks, _days_--this had all been a dream. But she was doing it. She was holding the list she had created for herself. There was still much to see: the Brooklyn Bridge was not so far away from where she was now. At least, not for her and her great leaps. And she could reach her motel room very easy from that spot, in case she grew tired afterwards. She flexed her toes and jumped, leaping not necessarily high, but long. She glided over the buildings, seemingly flying. The wind blew in her face; the New York wind. It was blowing her dress up, which she tried to press down with her gloved hands. She was wearing tights underneath, but it was still embarrassing.

She thought she heard voices, but she couldn't be sure and in any case, she couldn't stop herself in mid-leap. She never tried to. When she landed hard on a rooftop she turned around to see if anyone had been calling out to her. She may have widened the gap between them now, so she waited. After a long moment she grew impatient, as she turned and prepared to leap again.

"No! Wait!" cried a voice.Stupéfier turned around and watched a man in bright red and blue tights land beside her on the rooftop. He tried to talk, but he chose to gasp for air instead. He was so out of breath from chasing the new masked woman around the city. She smiled, trying to put a name to the face. It was on the tip of her tongue, and she tried so hard to remember. She nodded and snapped. "Spider-Man! I recognize you from my flashcards."

Spider-Man said, "You made flashcards?"

She nodded. "Do you know how many superheroes are in this city?" Her accent was thick, but her giggle was not masked by it. Politely she extended a hand, as she had done to Jameson. "I am new here. My name is Stupéfier."

"Call me Spidey," the man said. "So, where 're you from?"

"France," she told him. "I am trying to get to know the city." She handed him her list. She read off the things she wanted to do. "I want to see the Brooklyn Bridge, Stark Tower, The History Museum--ooh! And the Baxter Building! And the Met! And--"

"You have a lot planned, huh?" Spider-Man laughed, handing the list back to her. She took it and stuffed it back into her shoe. "Yes, I do. Are you going to help me?"

"Why would you assume that?"

"You came over to me, no?"

Spider-Man shrugged. "I'm just checking you out and making sure that you're not going to cause any problems."

Stupéfier was confused. "Problems? Like, be a 'bad guy'?"

Spider-Man nodded. "Are you?"

"No!" she said, offended. "I want to join the Avengers! You wouldn't happen to know them, would you?"

Spider-Man said, "Well, I'm kind of an Honorary Member. I turned down the membership when they offered it to me?"

"Why?" She asked, surprised.

"Ah...I like to work alone, I guess," he said. "I'm not much of a team player."

"Why not?"

"Why should I be? If I work alone I don't need to worry about all that stuff. Besides, it's not like they want me."

Stupéfier was really confused now. "Why wouldn't they want the 'Amazing' Spider-Man?"

"I don't get good press. People don't really like me. In the eyes of the law I'm an 'untrusted force.' Though this city had a lot of vigilantes."

Stupéfier just nodded. "It was nice meeting you, Mister Spider-Man. But I need to go to the Brooklyn Bridge." She turned to leave when Spider-Man said, "Wait! Hey...I can go with you to the Bridge, if you want."

"Why?"

"It's a special place to me. I don't want you there alone."

"So you do not trust me."

"To be honest," he said, "No. I just met you!"

"You Americans are a rare breed!" She smiled.

Spider-Man laughed. "And they used to say that just about us New Yorkers!"

She laughed too, to try and prevent an awkward silence that was sure to follow. "So, Mister Spider-Man, care to lead the way?"

"Don't even have to ask," he said, and he jumped. Stupéfier followed him, swinging on his weblines. She tried to judge her leaps as to not go ahead of him, but it couldn't really be helped. The Bridge wasn't far off, anyway. She could actually see it in the distance. It was so big, and it sparkled. Stupéfier smiled. She loved New York.

**_A/N: I'm posting this on all my fanfics. Please bare with me--I know that it is taking me longer than usual to update, and that the chapters are relatively short. My personal life just got a hell of a lot more hectic, and I am trying to keep up with my fics as best as I can. _**


	3. A Night On The Town

Stupéfier sat on a pillar of the Brooklyn Bridge. She smiled, breathing in the air. Spider-Man stood there, lost in thought. Nostalgic, she thought. This Bridge, as she had researched, held much history. And she knew what it meant to Spider-Man.

She remembered sitting in her apartment in France, using Google to satisfy her curiosity. The Brooklyn Bridge had been one of her first searches. She knew that a girl Spider-Man knew was killed here. She knew all about that Gwen Stacy girl. After all, Spider-Man himself apparently didn't know if his own webline killed her.

"Lovely view of the city," she said.

He didn't reply.

She could feel the tension as if it was bouncing off his flesh. This was not a happy place for him. In truth, he didn't want to be there. She could tell by the way he hung his head. "Spider-Man," Stupéfier said, fixing the mask on her face to fit more firmly, "I am sorry if by coming here you--"

"It's fine," he told her.

But she finished anyway, "you opened old wounds."

"Stuff like that never really heal in the first place, you know?"

Stupéfier did not want her visit there to be miserable, and Spider-Man was sulking in it. "I am going to go, Spider-Man. I hope we meet again."

"Wait," he said, grabbing her wrist before she jumped off. There was no way he'd be able to catch up to her again. Politely, she asked what he wanted. "I dunno," he said. "Take care. Hopefully we'll see each other again."

She nodded but did not reply. And with one great leap she was gone.

* * *

Later that night Stupéfier sat alone in the dark. She was not afraid; New York City's buildings were like night-lights. She was enjoying the sound of congested traffic, sitting on a ledge of a barrier that guarded the perimeter of a rooftop so those standing on it would not fall. The building was not as high as the _Bugle_ building, but it didn't matter. She just wanted to listen. 

There was a noise behind her; someone had cleared their throat. Stupéfier turned around, smiling still, and noticed a man. He seemed a few years older than her: he had a handsome face, she had to give him that. His blue eyes weren't as pretty as they'd be when the sunlight reflected on them, and his reddish-brown hair seemed more than black. "Mind if I join you?"

Compared to his voice, she realized how much of an accent she really had. "No, no. Sit."

The man did not wear a mask, but sprouted an odd green jumpsuit with yellow lightening bolts running down the sides, in a sort of "V" formation. He had a hell of a smile. Stupéfier tried not to stare. "You new around here?"

She nodded. "I just come from France," she said.

"France? Jeez! You're far from home, ain'tcha?"

She laughed. He was funny. He was cute and funny. She bit her lip and stuck out her hand. "I'm Stupéfier."

He shook. "Stupéfier? Some name. French?"

Trying to share humor, she tried, "No, really? You think, eh?" She didn't know if she came off funny or just annoying or rude. Max looked away for a moment. "So...what's your deal? Powers, I mean."

Just speed, strength, and I can jump really far," she told him. "Nothing epseical."

"Considering to some of these people walkin' the streets, you're pretty damn special."

She bit her lip again. Did he just call her special? Did that count as flirting? Or did Americans talk like that to members of the opposite gender all the time without romantic intentions? She just nodded and smiled, not sure of the words to say.

"People 'round here call me Electro," he said. Before she asked why, he held out his hand and somehow, to Stupéfier's amazement, generated electricity. He made a spark dance from fingertip to fingertip. He looked at her, staring at the lighting in his hand. He smiled. "But you, pretty lady, can call me Max."

Now he called her pretty. She blushed. That was definitely flirting. "You said you were new," Electro said, standing up. He extended his hand to her, helping her stand as well. "Why don't I give you a night on the town?"

"On the town?" She said, not completely familiar with the expression. But she didn't care. She nodded and listened to him talk all about how his mother's lack of faith in his brain and caused him to get struck by lighting and become a human powerhouse.

**_A/N: Sorry about the length! I know, I'm terrible. I will not be updating for a week or two--it's my birthday and also midterms, which means more studying and partying(they go together well in the same sentence, huh?) and less time for fanficing. I'll try to get on, though. Sorry, and enjoy!_**


	4. As Night Falls

There was no doubt in his mind that Stupéfier had no idea what she was doing. Join the Avengers? Really now? Just like that? He had to admit: that girl could jump. And when she left him alone on the Brooklyn Bridge, not only did he know he'd track her down (thanks to his best friend, the spider-tracer) but he also knew that she actually stood a chance.

Stupéfier was going international now. The Avengers would be curious, at least. Who wouldn't be curious of a hot new French babe with crazy powers? (Ha, Mary Jane would kill him if she knew he thought like that).

Spider-Man started swinging himself over to Stark Tower--the Avengers normally hung out with Iron Man and his fancy, rich little not-so-secret hideaway. Captain America, Thor, and Stark would be there, most likely. They deserved a heads up about the new girl who had her eyes set on their team.

It was getting dark, and Spider-Man didn't want to make his entrance into Stark Tower seem more like a break-in. He had enough bad press as it were, lately. On a webline he soared into the city. He loved the city at night.

But, of course, the law had other plans. He saw three police cars speed down the street, their lights flashing and sirens blaring. He changed his direction and headed towards the Empire State Building, excited for a little action. Though he never felt excited. He felt scared--you never know what lunatic was around the corner and ready to kill you.

For a moment, he really though Stupéfier had something to do with it. For some reason, he just knew that girl would be getting herself into some sort of mess. He was happy to see he had been wrong, and that it was not her. He was not happy to see it was Mysterio. What was he doing? It seemed that he was just standing on a street corner...there had to be something he was up to.

Spider-Man quickened his pace, then flipped off his webline and landed hard on the ground. "I never did ask you, Mysterio...is it hard to get that bowl off your head?"

Mysterio had become accustomed to remarks about his costume. He wore a green jumpsuit, a long purple cape, and fishbowl-like helmet. Mysterio just laughed.

"What are you up to?" Spider-Man asked him, standing a good distance away on the street corner.

Mysterio snarled, "Wouldn't _you_ like to know!"

"...I would, actually. Which is why I asked..."

Mysterio spun himself around to face Spider-Man, then threw small little pellets to the ground. Smoke erupted from them, and Spider-Man found himself lost in cheap stage effects, as the Master of Illusion went in for his attack. Spider-Man wondered if Mysterio--or any of the bad guys, for that matter--knew he had a spider-sense. Because when Mysterio went in with his foot aimed at Spider-Man's head, all it took was that dull little buzz at the base of his neck to dodge out of the way. Then, his spider-sense guiding him, he reached out and grabbed Mysterio's wrist as he was about to deliver a blow to Spider-Man's face. Spider-Man twisted his arm around and kicked Mysterio out of the cloud of artificial smoke, and then he followed.

Mysterio stood and brushed himself off. "I have to go, Spider-Man, but we are not through."

Spider-Man wanted to laugh. "Oh, you're done? So it's okay, you can just leave? Is your helmet on too _tight_ or something?"

Mysterio smiled under his helmet. "We'll meet again, Spider-Man."

Spider-Man nodded. "Yep. Your helmet's on too tight." And he jumped towards, him, his hands ready to pull him down. But Mysterio threw down more smoke pellets, and he vanished from sight. Spider-Man was far from impressed. He'd seen Mysterio's tricks one too many times to awed like a little kid at a magic show. At a very_ bad_ magic show.

"Man, I hate that guy," Spider-Man said. "What the heck was he doing, just standing on a street corner? Getting some fresh air?" He shook his head and jumped, taking off on a webline and heading into the night sky. "He's up to something, all right. It won't be long till I find out, too, knowing him."

Spider-Man pondered on this all on his way to Stark Tower. Mysterio was one of his bad guys, not Captain America, Thor, or any of those guys, true. But that didn't mean they couldn't share some insight on that, too. Spider-Man had never seen anyone do that before. Mysterio was literally just standing on a street corner. Just standing there, as if it were no big deal. Wanted, international supervillains don't _do_ stuff like that! Not the last time Spider-Man had checked, anyway. But who knew? Supervillainy could be starting up some new trends.

* * *

Stupéfier had found Max Dillon strangely attractive. And, for some odd reason, she fell for him instantly. He seemed to be such a gentleman, as the two stuck to the shadows as he pointed out famous landmarks. They had to stay off the main street for "reasons I'm sure you understand, Stupey." Stupéfier knew that superhumans didn't just go waltzing about in the street. And he had a pet name for her, which made her giggle.

"I was supposed to meet up with this guy," Max continued. "I want to introduce you to him. His name is Quentin, but he goes by Mysterio. I think that name is worse than mine."

"I am guessing, by the sound of his name, his is a superhero, eh?"

Max laughed.

"So, a friend of yours?"

"More like an ally. For now."

Stupéfier nodded. He wrapped his arm around her shoulder and pointed. "See that? That's the Empire State Building."

Stupéfier wasn't stupid. She knew the Empire State Building. But she nodded and appreciated his effort to show her around. Suddenly she watched Max go still, and his eyes were fixed on something. It was like he was lost in himself, and he seemed so cold. Stupéfier didn't like that side of him, as his eyes narrowed. She looked around, trying to see what he was staring at. Oh, look! It was Spider-Man.

"I owe you big time, bug-man!" Max shouted out. Stupéfier watched his hands spark with electricity, as he jumped and fired a ball of pure power towards the web-swinger.

"Max! What the bloody hell are you doing?" Stupéfier managed to scream out. She leaped high into the air, her black dress flowing, and grabbed Max, tackling him to the ground. She felt the heat from his generating still. She fixed her foot-ball shaped mask on her face, as it had fallen down slightly. She had been meaning to get it fitted.

"Spider-Man!" Stupéfier cried out. Was he okay? She hadn't even seen him get hit. Maybe he managed to dodge it.

Max rolled over and got up. "Stupey! Are you nuts? I had him!"

"Why would you do that?" she asked. "You attacked him!"

"What, jealous I got to him first?"

Stupéfier was so confused. Maybe the two had a fight or something, and that was why they were not friends. Spider-Man seemed like a likable person, and Max...

Max pulled on her wrist and started running. She held up her dress as not to trip, though it was short enough. "Where are we going?"

"I don't feel like fightin' him! I got bigger plans!"

"Plans for what?"

"Stupey, I wanna introduce you to five friends of mine..."

"Friends?"

Max gave an evil smile. Something told her to turn the other way, but his charm pulled her in closer. She nodded, and allowed Max to lead her on.


	5. The Cliche

If there was one thing Stupéfier knew, it was the cliche of old abandoned warehouses. Max assured her that this one, on the edge of the East River, was perfectly safe. She wasn't too she believed him, and was prepared to jump away at a moment's notice.

"My friends picked this place out. I just go along for the ride."

"What friends?" she asked for the third, no, fourth time.

Max smiled evilly as he opened up the door for her. "Lemme surprise ya."

Stupéfier walked in, making sure her mask was tight enough on her face. She had a very bad feeling about this place. It was so dark inside, and she couldn't make out anything. Max walked beside her, his hand glowing to create some light. Stupéfier could see something moving.

"Turn on the light, you fool." said a demanding voice. "We have electricity in this establishment."

"Better than the last place," another voice chimed in.

Max walked away from her side for only a moment, as he flipped on a light switch. Stupéfier instantly saw that the friends Max had told her about had superpowers as well. The one that stood out to her right away was a pudgy man with a fishbowl haircut, wearing sunglasses, even indoors. He was at the center of four metal arms, which swayed and moved in the air as if they were alive. They seemed to be a part of him.

The other was an old man; Stupéfier wondered what he was doing out with the others instead of in a nursing home. He was bald and had a grim expression. He was wearing a green bird suit, which even the foreign visitor found slightly amusing.

The next man seemed fairly normal, except for the fact that his face was literally a blank, white canvas. He did not smile, but his eyes flashes in Stupéfier's direction.

With artificial stage smoke around his feet, the next friend of Max's had a strange attire; he was wearing a green jumpsuit with a purple cape, but wore a helmet over his head that greatly resembled a fishbowl.

And the last seemed to be normal; he was wearing brown pants and a striped green shirt. He seemed to be a bit of a blockhead, literally. His head was shaped oddly, but maybe it was just her.

"Where you followed?" the pudgy man asked.

Max shook his head.

"And who is this?"

"I'm Stupéfier," she smiled. "I'm new to America. It's nice to meet you."

The man cocked his head. "And you brought her without our consent?"

"I just met her tonight," Max said. He wrapped his arm around her. "Stupéfier, this is Doctor Octavius. The old guy is the Vulture. Fishbowl head would be Mysterio, the faceless guy is the Chameleon, and then that guy in the green shirt is the Sandman. And, like I told ya, I'm Electro. We make up the Sinister Six."

"Sinister Six? I have not heard of your group before." Stupéfier admitted.

"What can you do?" Octavius asked, ignoring her comment. He stroked his chin, as if he was analyzing an interesting experiment.

"I--"

"Aw, she's great!" Max interrupted. "She can jump really far--I mean,_ really _far. She has super strength, topped off with super speed. She's from France. And, better yet, she knows Spider-Man."

Stupéfier noticed how everyone tensed at the sound of that name. "How do you know him?"

She smiled, a little nervous about the way their eyes were looking at her. "I...eh...He stopped me one day, and we walked. I told him I wanted to see the sights, you understand, get a feel of New York City!" she took a brief pause. "He did not trust me, and when I told him the Brooklyn Bridge was my next desired destination, he came with me. I felt uncomfortable, since he had lost someone he knew there. But other than that, I do not know him."

Octavius nodded. Stupéfier saw that he was the leader, official or not. They all looked at him, unsure of what to make of the new girl. "Why did you come to America, Stupéfier?"

"To join the Avengers."

The others snorted. Some looked away. She was so confused.

"And, you do not know who we are?"

She shook her head. "Not in the slightest. Sorry."

"No, no, that is quite all right. It was nice meeting you, Stupéfier. If you do not mind, I need to talk to Max and the others privately. Will you be able to find your way home from here?"

She nodded. "Yes, I should be able to." This was a lie; but she knew she could manage herself.

Max said, "Hey, what gives?"

One of Octavius' metal arms reached towards Max. Its pincers tugged on his costume, pulling him closer. "This is what happens when you bring uninvited company, Electro."

Max turned around, smiling a goofy smile. "I'll see you around, Stupéfier."

She smiled and exited the warehouse, happy to be out of the place. Perhaps it was just her, but those men gave her the weirdest feelings. She sprung off the ground and into the sky, jumping her way back to her motel. It was late, and she knew exactly what tomorrow would hold in store.

_**A/N: I'm going on vacation, so I'll be a little slow with the updates. Sorry! I know you don't deserve it. Thank you for being so patient with me.**_


	6. Throw It Out There

Spider-Man had wasted countless,_ countless_ hours searching. His spider-sense had caught the giant ball of electricity that had been aimed for him, but there was no sign of whoever threw it at him. His guess was Electro, but in this line of work, one could never be too sure.

"Spider-Man, long time no see," said a strong voice. Iron Man, in his custom battle armor, landed on the rooftop alongside him. "How've you been?"

Spider-Man wasn't really used to seeing Iron Man in the field. He hadn't seen it him in action much, and he felt a bit inferior. He always did feel that way, compared to people like him and Captain America. He acknowledged Iron Man, saying, "You guys got a spot open on the Avengers?"

The question struck Mister Tony Stark as odd. "Why? Interested now?" He hoped not. He really did.

He laughed, walking closer to the armored man. "What do you think?" he asked. "'Course not. But I know someone who is. She just came from France."

It caught Iron Man's interest, he wouldn't deny that. "People don't just get membership, Spider-Man. You know that." It had taken a heck of a lot of thought to allow him to even be considered honorary.

Spider-Man nodded, speaking face-to-face with him now. "Would 'ya meet her?" he asked.

"I don't see the harm in it," Stark said. "What can she do?"

Spider-Man exhaled in a grunt. "She can jump like a friggin' maniac, for one," he laughed. "If I see her, can I bring her over to the Mansion?" He wondered how Stark would respond to that. Would he let a stranger inside his tower?

"I'll speak about it with some of the others," he said. "Though I see no problem. Tell her not to expect much."

Spider-Man nodded. "None of us do," he snapped. "I'll let her know."

**_A/N: I really am sorry, but my personal life is a mess right now, and I have no time at all to update. I'm trying. _**


End file.
